


forgotten garden

by moonflovers



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-05 05:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14610876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflovers/pseuds/moonflovers
Summary: It’s not like Akaashi to be a procrastinator. Especially when the deadline is his death and the only thing he has to do is confess to his best friend.





	1. bloom

It happened a bit after Bokuto ran across the gym to greet a girl with dark hair and a soft smile waiting at the entrance. At first, Akaashi thought that the girl was simply a friend, a classmate who might needed something from Bokuto. But he was gravely mistaken because just before the girl was going to leave, Bokuto pulled her back and kissed her on the mouth for the entire team to see

(Akaashi quickly excused himself after, claiming he had a terrible headache. His coach let him go with a pat on his back and a gentle reminder to do his best to stay healthy).

After that, he saw Bokuto and the girl around together everywhere- during lunch, before practice started, in dark corners where he could hear them giggle and hush each other when they got too loud. Sometimes, he’d see them in the library, the place he thought he wouldn’t have to see them together, holding hands while browsing through their textbooks.

It’s only thirty minutes after Bokuto tells him he loves the girl- Hashiyama Hiroka, that he coughs up a flower, covered in spit and blood.

Akaashi wants to cry when he realises it’s a yellow chrysanthemum.

* * *

It’s one of those rare days when they don’t have practice over the weekend when Bokuto arrives on his doorstep wearing an oversized grey sweater and black pants that leaves Akaashi breathless because _holy shit, Bokuto-san’s really hot_.

“Hey, Akaashi! I haven’t seen you in a while outside of practice so I decided to come visit you!” Bokuto walks in when Akaashi opens the door wider for him, too tired to deny him. He trails after Bokuto warily, hoping that he won’t ask why he’s been so distant, why he pretends not to hear Bokuto when he calls him in the hallways in school, why he can’t seem to look him in the eye when talking to him.

“So, Akaashi,” Akaashi’s not looking at Bokuto but he sees his hands and they’re fidgeting, moving from his knees to his lap then up to his hair and Akaashi freezes because he catches a glimpse of bright golden eyes and he looks down at his feet.

“Do you hate me?”

Akaashi’s head snaps up and he looks at Bokuto dead in the eye, trying to control the tears that could come spilling from his eyes that’ll freak Bokuto out and he’ll ask what’s wrong and he’ll confess because he can’t really lie really well.

“I don’t hate you, Bokuto-san,” he assures the older boy. “I’m just... you could say I’m a bit tired right now.”

Bokuto nods and he looks so relieved because his shoulders sag and he slouches on the couch. Then he smiles at Akaashi. “Yeah, I figured. You look like you haven’t gotten so much sleep the past few days,”

 _I haven’t_ , Akaashi thinks bitterly. _I can’t sleep when I know what I’m doing is basically suicide._

“I’m just stressed from school. There’s a lot of tests and it’s hard while having to do volleyball practice,” Akaashi takes a seat beside Bokuto who luckily doesn’t lay his head against his chest (he’s a bit disappointed in reality but he knows it’s also a good thing).

They sit like that for a while, silence engulfing them. It’s not uncomfortable and it’s a bit calming to have Bokuto by his side.

“Hey, Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“I miss you,”

Akaashi ignores the way his heart clenches at Bokuto’s words. “I missed you too.”

(Later when Bokuto heads home, he coughs up six chrysanthemums, all yellow and covered in blood. As Akaashi goes to dispose them, he realises it’s the number of days he’s been avoiding Bokuto).

* * *

After an uneventful dinner with his parents, he goes to his room and locks it and pulls out a notebook from the bottom of his bag and opens it. There, he writes down a plan.

It’s not much of a plan but more of a compromise between his logical side and his emotions. When his conditions worsen, he has to get the surgery which will save his life. But before that happens, he should tell Bokuto about his feelings and maybe he won’t have to undergo a surgery at all.

But he knows it’s just false hope because Bokuto loves Hashiyama and looks at her like she’s the stars, like she could fix everything in the world, like she’s a god who decided to grace Bokuto with her presence. And what’s worse is that she looks at Bokuto the same way.

Just like he does.

* * *

It’s been four months since he first coughed up yellow chrysanthemums and he’s sitting on the rooftop with no other than Kuroo Tetsurou. Drinking the beer he was given, Kuroo breaks the silence.

“Will you get surgery?” He asks, oddly silent.

Akaashi nods. “When I’m in the critical stages of this disease then I will have to undergo the surgery,” he says.

Kuroo hums and lies on his back. “You know, Kenma had that surgery when he was thirteen. I still don’t know who it was but sometimes he tells me he regrets it,” he says. “Because it’s not really the same without those feelings anymore.”

“I could die,” Akaashi gently reminds him.

“I know. But have you even told Bo, yet? Because as far as I know, he’s not exactly the best at hiding secrets- from me at least,” he adds.

Akaashi stays silent and downs his beer in one gulp. He curls up and rests his head on his knees and wonders when he’s become such a procrastinator.

“Look, at least tell him. You’re planning to get the surgery anyways if it doesn’t work out,” Kuroo says, gently patting his back.

“But... I’m scared,” he says softly. “I’ll still remember his face, his words after I get the surgery. Even if I lose my feelings, I don’t think that the hurt will fade.”

On the street, a car passes by, illuminating the path and he sees Kuroo’s face so full of regret and sorrow and he wonders if Kuroo understands the pain he’s going through.

“Why are you so insistent that he’ll reject you?”

“Because he loves Hashiyama Hiroka and he doesn’t love me the way I do,”

Kuroo sighs. “Oh, Akaashi,”

They sit there until dawn, passing stories and jokes and mostly just staying silent, appreciating the stars until Akaashi breaks down, feeling hot tears rolling down his cheeks and a hand rubbing his back.

“I love him so much, Kuroo,” he says, sobs racking his body. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know. I know, Akaashi,”

* * *

He’s coughing up flowers every three hours now and his throat is bruised and bloodied and the flowers seem to grow larger and they come out looking more red than yellow.

The worst of it is that his team has started to notice. They ask him why he has blood on the corners of his school uniform, why he’s so pale, why there are circles under his eyes and why he can’t seem to talk anymore.

Akaashi feels like crying as his coach benches him and he does because last week he was still doing so well and now he can hardly set a ball in the places he wants them to go. He rubs his eyes and he looks at the court and sees Bokuto soaring high, his arm slamming down a ball across the court.

And that’s when it all goes to hell.

He coughs up three flowers and he can’t stop it. The flowers are so bright he starts to cry again. The flowers are red and the red drips down from his hands and his arms to the wooden floor of the gym.

“Akaashi?”

He looks up and sees Bokuto in front of him and he almost coughs up another flower right there.

He smiles weakly at Bokuto even if he knows he looks like shit with his alabaster white skin and blood on the corners of his lips. “Could you please take me to the hospital? I think it’s time to get a surgery,” he says calmly.


	2. wither

Bokuto remembers the first time he brought Akaashi over to his house. It’s not like it’s rare to bring someone to his house and it isn’t special. But what’s special is that he brings Akaashi out to his garden and points out his favourite flower.

(It’s not so special but he never told anyone about it so it could be special).

It’s a pale blue flower that droops down, never standing upright. It’s the opposite of what he is: lazy and mellow. But Akaashi agrees it is a pretty flower and then points out the yellow flowers near the single tree in the backyard and says those are his favourite.

Bokuto remembers there was a reason why but the explanation is lost in his mind.

(It bothers him a lot more now because it’s important and that it’s connected to why Akaashi coughs up flowers).

* * *

 

Akaashi returns to school one week after his surgery but Bokuto never really speaks to him until a day before graduation.

It’s almost awkward to approach him outside practice but Bokuto waves at him and fortunately, Akaashi goes to him with his usual uninterested look on his face. It’s a bit awkward but considering they haven’t really spoken, Bokuto figures it’s normal.

“Hi, Akaashi,” he says and gods, he feels so lightheaded and if Akaashi touched him, he thinks he might topple over.

“Bokuto-san. Do you need something from me?” Bokuto wants to flinch from Akaashi’s tone but there really isn’t a reason to- it’s still familiar if just a bit less warm than before. But it feels like something is wrong, like something integral is missing.

“Nothing. It’s just that I’m graduating tomorrow and I haven’t... I haven’t talked to you in a while,” Bokuto finishes off with a smile. “Do you want to eat lunch together?”

Bokuto’s so sure Akaashi’s going to say no, maybe tell him he’s busy but he doesn’t refuse and nods. And just like before, they’re headed to the courtyard, under the shade of a tree that’s usually left alone by students.

“Are you still going to play volleyball, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, once they settle down.

“Yeah! I really want to go pro, you know?” Akaashi nods. “And I’m lucky because I’ve been invited to the youth team so my chances are higher than most. How about you, Akaashi?”

They continue like that, like they didn’t stop talking. It’s almost bittersweet in fact, as Bokuto realises he’s leaving Fukorodani tomorrow.

“How is Hashiyama-san, by the way?” Bokuto blinks and looks at Akaashi with a frown.

“We broke up two months ago,” he finally says.

“Oh,”

It’s been two months since Akaashi got his surgery and he remembers it because it’s the day Hiroka coughs up purple flowers that are dark enough to be black. When she told him through tears, all he did was hug her and then promptly broke it off. She had her surgery three days later and kept her promise to stay as his friend.

“Akaashi, if it’s okay, could you tell me wh- what colour the flowers were? It was... it was red because of the blood but no one could tell what the actual colours were,” he says, his face heating up when he realises he almost asked who the flowers were for. His mother would probably smack his head if she heard him ask that question to anyone.

Akaashi stares at him and Bokuto realises that Akaashi isn’t pretty; he’s actually _gorgeous_ with his blue eyes that look like they hold the universe and his rare smiles that seems to lift Bokuto up from all his worries. He’s so damn beautiful that Bokuto wants to raise his hand and cup his cheek and kiss him but he doesn’t and he looks down to his shoes, embarrassed by his train of thought.

“Yellow. They were yellow,” Akaashi’s voice is so soft, he almost thought it was just the breeze.

Bokuto looks back up at him. “Oh. Like your favourite?”

Akaashi’s smile is not humorous and more melancholic, like he knows something that was happy during the past but is just sad when the memory resurfaces. “Exactly like my favourite, Bokuto-san.”

(When Bokuto goes home, he rushes to the bathroom as he feels something rough push up his throat and almost laughs when he sees pale blue flowers floating in the toilet).

* * *

The flowers are weird. They don’t make a big difference in Bokuto’s life because he hardly coughs them up. They’re there, Bokuto knows but it’s like they’re dormant, waiting for something to happen before they burst out.

And he’s right because it’s when he feels nostalgic and thinks of Akaashi, it’s then the flowers come flowing from his mouth, red and just a bit blue.

But Bokuto doesn’t complain as long as he enjoys his summer with Kuroo by his side, going on trips around the country. The flowers are triggered by Akaashi so he throws himself into activities he doesn’t really care for just so he doesn’t remember his shy laugh and his stupid deadpan jokes that are actually really funny for some reason.

But he doesn’t forget that, although perhaps the process is slower for him, he’s still going to die in the end.

* * *

College is hard. But Bokuto manages, finding a balance between helping his team out and studying for his tests- even if he prioritises his team more than studying. Still, he gets decent enough grades that lets him stay on his sports scholarship and he’s happy.

And that’s a lie because sometimes, he’ll wake up with a pounding headache and twenty missed calls and thirty five texts from Kuroo berating him for being late and being too attached to past.

This time, he wakes up in a familiar bed and Akaashi is beside him, sitting down while doing something on his phone. It’s early morning because golden rays of sunlight hit Akaashi’s face and hair, highlighting his cheekbones and eyes, leaving this ethereal form in Bokuto’s mind.

It takes all his willpower not to throw up and puke all the flowers in his lungs.

“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi,” he watched Akaashi look at him then go back to his phone.

“Kuroo asked me to pick you up. He tells me you’ve been doing this often,” Bokuto really, really hates the universe and wonders what sins he’s done in his previous life to let him deserve such a fate.

“Yeah. I can’t deny that,” Bokuto shrugs. “You could say that I’m stressed.”

Akaashi stops using his phone and actually glares at Bokuto which is downright _terrifying_. “You should take better care of yourself, Bokuto-san,” his voice is administrative and sharp but there’s also an underlying current of worry. “What if you end up doing something stupid and no one can help you?”

Bokuto wants to tell him he’s already done something stupid because he loves him and he’s going to die with blood coated blue flowers between his throat and the feeling of hopelessness and despair.

But he doesn’t and just shakes his head even if it aches and smiles at him even if he doesn’t want to. “It’s okay, Akaashi. It’s a Saturday so I’ll be taking my leave now,” and before Akaashi can do anything, Bokuto practically darts out his room and out of the house which is an amazing feat since his limbs hurt and his head is pounding.

When he arrives back in his apartment, he glares at Kuroo before entering the bathroom to dredge up the flowers that pushed their way up his throat.

* * *

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Bokuto wonders if Akaashi loved him and got the surgery because of him. It sounds stupid but he can’t help but think, what if?

He’s been living with the flowers for almost a year now and he still doesn’t want to get the surgery. Kuroo’s been trying to persuade him but he wants to hold on to his feelings, even if it’s unrequited, even if he has to die.

Akaashi’s going to start living with them and Bokuto knows he’s not going to last a month- maybe not even a week. But he loves volleyball a bit too much and maybe he’s being a drama queen so he’ll get his surgery and remove all his feelings for a certain blue-eyed setter.

Still, he’s going to tell Akaashi. Because maybe, there might be a chance Akaashi likes him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto.... Bokuto hunny... I’m so sorry


	3. flowers

Once you cut the flowers, your feelings for the person never come back. It’s common knowledge so 98% of people who are about to take their surgeries confess to the person they love in hopes of the person liking them back.

67% of that population still gets their surgeries anyways.

* * *

When Akaashi walks into his new apartment, he’s greeted warmly by Kuroo with a pat on the back and a devilish smile on his face which he’s grown accustomed to. Their apartment is surprisingly neat and tidy (although he thinks they might just have cleaned up recently so he doesn’t immediately walk out on them), and is filled with flowers of different variations, all bright and cheery.

“Hello, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi smiles at him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! The semester hasn’t actually started yet so I’m still sane!” Kuroo laughs and slaps him on the back with not too much force so he doesn’t fall over because it happened before and Kuroo’s more gentle with him now.

“I see. Where’s Bokuto-san?” Akaashi looks around, wondering if Bokuto is hiding somewhere, ready to throw confetti in the air or just barrel at him unexpectedly.

Kuroo laughs nervously, placing his hand behind his neck. “He’s staying with a friend for now. I don’t think you’ll see much of him for a while,” his voice is apologetic and extremely nervous like he’s waiting for Akaashi to cry or be disappointed. But he’s not because he got the surgery and there are no more flowers growing in his lungs.

“I’m not in love with him anymore, Kuroo-san. It’s okay,”

“But you’ve missed him,” Akaashi winces because he is a bit disappointed not seeing his old friend because last time he saw Bokuto, he was a mess and he ran out his bedroom like he was running in a marathon. He wanted them to be friends again, to be normal and joke around like before. But then he realises in horror, maybe Bokuto realised he was the reason he started puking flowers and now he doesn’t want to see him.

“I’m sure he has his reasons to why he doesn’t want to see me,” Akaashi softly says. Then he smiles at Kuroo who blushes just a bit. “I’ll see him during training anyways.”

“Traini- oh my gods, you’re on the team! You little bastard!”

(After running away from the clutches of Kuroo, Akaashi goes down to get a small flowerpot from his car. The flower is blue and it droops a bit and he promises himself he won’t let it die).

* * *

 

He sees Bokuto one time during his first week in his new apartment and they only have the chance to say hi before Akaashi leaves to pick up some books from the nearby bookstore. But he noticed that Bokuto seemed frighteningly sick with his pale skin and quiet voice and he wanted nothing more than to help Bokuto.

(Something told him he wouldn’t appreciate the help from him).

* * *

 

Wednesday, on third week of staying in the apartment and the first week when the semester finally starts, Bokuto is rushed to the hospital.

Kuroo gets him with a waiver from the hospital- he’s going to confess. Akaashi blanches and he’s visibly shaking as he stands up to join Kuroo.

“I’m sorry, Akaashi but he really wanted to see you,” Kuroo isn’t looking at him but his face is apologetic as they dash through the campus and get in the waiting taxi. When they arrive, it feels like no time has passed by and his heart is heavier than before.

They go to the Emergency Room and Akaashi runs ahead to the Hanahaki section and comes to a stop when he sees Bokuto on a bed, deathly pale. The pain in his heart magnifies when he sees the flowers, oh gods, the flowers. They’re blue hydrangeas and Akaashi wants to cry.

“Bokuto-san?” He sounds breathless, maybe scared even. But when Bokuto opens his eyes, he can see the excitement, the relief and gratitude; it makes him feel sick.

“Akaashi! You came,” it’s unusual to hear Bokuto sound so weak, so frail. He’s grown so used to hearing him so energetic and full of life. He brings his eyes down and curses the flowers, curses the hanahaki disease.

When Akaashi looks up again, Bokuto’s head is cocked to the side and he remembers the days when he used to call Bokuto an owl. “Of course I did. You’re my best friend and I’ll listen to what you have fo say,” he’s going to do this for Bokuto. He knows the conclusion but the least he can do is be kind and gentle.

“Good. Because I’m going to ask you questions first.”

Akaashi frowns but he nods, nonetheless. He’ll entertain Bokut’s wishes, his demands.

“First question: were the flowers for me?”

Akaashi blinks then cringes. Why was Bokuto asking him that? He wanted to make it less painful, he wanted Bokuto to be sheltered by the pain, by the what ifs and the countless other possible scenarios they could be in. He didn’t love Bokuto anymore but he still cared deeply for him.

Bokuto’s voice snaps him away from his thoughts. “It’s okay. I just need confirmation,” he says.

Akaashi bites his lips and nods once, feeling tears build at the corners of his eyes.

“Okay. How long did it last?”

“Five months,”

“Are you okay?”

“As fine as I can be,” Akaashi chokes out.

At that, Bokuto looks down at his hands. “I’m sorry, Akaashi. This must seem so unfair for you-“

“It is. It really is,” the dam breaks and tears are running freely down Akaashi’s face and he raises his arms, wiping them away fruitlessly as his sobs become louder.

“Come here, Akaashi,” Akaashi sits on the edge of the hospital bed and cried even harder when he feels a pair of hands bring him down. He muffled his cries on Bokuto’s shoulder feeling pathetic.

“Akaashi, I love you. I really do. And we must have the worst luck ever if this is how it goes,” it doesn’t help Akaashi calm down but there’s a sense of comfort just by hearing Bokuto talk. “I know you can’t reciprocate even if I wish you could but you got the surgery for me. It can’t be helped.

“But at least I know you loved me. It kind of makes me happy,” there are hands tracing circles on Akaashi’s back and he realises how reversed the situation is and almost laughs.

“I wish I confessed,” Akaashi whispers.

Bokuto shrugs. “I do too but we have to leave it in the past. Even after this, we’re going to be best friends. You’re going to be my favourite setter and I’ll be the best wing spiker you’ll ever play with, okay?” Akaashi nods.

“Gods, when did you become so eloquent?” Akaashi smiles and feels the pain ooze out of him, slowly but still leaving him.

“College is a bitch,” they laugh and Akaashi stands up again, cheeks red.

“Hey, Akaashi? I have a request- actually two requests.” Bokuto’s pale cheeks are suddenly flushed with pink and he sees his hands are fumbling with the hem of his pants.

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“Call me Koutarou. Just for today, please?”

Akaashi smiles. “Of course, Koutarou. What’s the other one?” He asks.

Bokuto bites his bottom lip and Akaashi knows he’s extremely anxious at this point. “Could you tell me you love me? I know it’s fake but I want to hear you say it. You don’t have to, of course! I’m not forcing you!”

Akaashi looks down and smiles. He looks back at the days when they were both still in Fukorodani, visiting each other in the middle of the night, singing songs when they needed a break from doing all their homework. Akaashi bringing Bokuto up from a bad day and Bokuto hitting Akaashi with a volleyball whenever he got too caught up with his thoughts about the future. He remembers all the times they would buy each other their favourite food and all of Bokuto’s bright smiles. It’s not hard to love Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi decides.

_“I love you, Koutarou. I love you.”_

 

_**E N D** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flower meanings:  
> Yellow chrysanthemums: neglected love or sorrow
> 
> Blue hydrangeas: turns down a romantic proposal or expresses regret
> 
> I really didn’t want to finish this because I hate writing angst. I fucking hate it. I like it when I read it though but when I write it, I just stop. It proves that I’m a masochist and not a sadist.
> 
> But thank you to all the 21 people who left kudos on this fic and all those who subscribed and the one person who bookmarked this :>
> 
> I’m posting more bokuaka fics soon so stay tuned! Follow me on twitter @gloomflovvers for more details (the rough drafts are posted there lol)

**Author's Note:**

> The next part is when i finish reading some more angsty fics to fuel my immense hatred for myself and the need to write something that hurts me.


End file.
